𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Failed.

The word clanged around her brain as she sat at the bar. Peanut butter whiskey burned her throat, but she prefers that burn to the burn of the word "failure." She doesn't know why she's thinking about it so much. Well, she does.

She knows in her heart that the demon she struck a deal with, that black-eyed bitch, negotiated in bad faith. Her deal with the demon didn't go through. There's no way it did.

The word reminds her of her teenage years, not that they were so far off. She remembers a hunt that went sideways when she was fifteen. The monster of Bear Lake in Utah. Her dad almost lost an arm because Katherine assembled a reel herself. He didn't check her work, but it was her fault. Failure. Getting kicked out of Yale her first spring semester. Failure.

The word failure burns like something worse than whiskey.

It burns like a brand. A big scarlet F on her chest.

"You feel like you have a scarlet letter?" Katherine asks, resting her head on Sam's shoulder.

"A big fat 'F'" Sam says into his glass. She gasps, sitting up straight.

"Me too!"

"What the hell, you two?"

Katherine swivels around in her chair at the sound of Dean's voice behind them. Hard green eyes flit between her and Sam. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

Katherine lifts her glass. "Havin' a drink."

"Havin' a drink," Sam parrots, taps his glass against Katherine's, and the two down the last quarter ounce of their whiskey. He taps his glass on the bar twice, and the bartender grabs the handle of peanut butter whiskey.

"Having a drink?" Dean echoes. "It's two o'clock in the afternoon!"

"So?" Katherine chirps.

"And you're drinking whiskey?"

"I drink whiskey all the time," she and Sam say in unison.

Dean frimaces. "No, you don't." He jabs Sam's shoulder with his index finger. Then he gestures to Katherine. "You I don't know about anymore."

Anymore.

It made Katherine sad.

"What's the big deal, Dean?" She sighs, all humor in her voice drained. "You get sloppy in bars all the time. Sam and I aren't even sloppy."

"No," Dean scoffs. "You're sloshy."

She frowns at him. "I am not."

"How much have you two had to drink?"

Katherine stares at her glass before looking to Sam. He just shrugs, refusing to let his brother berrate him for something else. Dean lets out a long, frustrated sigh. When Sam looks at Katherine again, her blue eyes are shiny, cast down to the sticky bartop. He moves his hand from the top of the bar and rests it on her knee. Katherine sniffs.

"Oh boy." Dean clears his throat and shoves between the two's chairs. "Hey, can I get whatever they're drinking, double?" He casts a glance to a drunky-crying Katherine Louise. "And a really big water. Hey, why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," she says through her teeth. Willing it.

"We're working through our emotions," Sam says, positively empty.

Dean frowns. "The hell does that mean?"

"Dean, neither of us can save you," he says. "We've tried." Dean's spine is on fire, and he spins to look at Katherine.